


After the Storm

by Caro (thestarsexist)



Category: Smallville
Genre: Drama, First Time, M/M, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-30
Updated: 2003-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-01 12:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsexist/pseuds/Caro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Vortex Therapy Fic. "Best friends did not leave each other alone in a dark and lonely house, sitting among ruins, with a half empty bottle of scotch in front of them."</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Storm

A/N: I originally wrote this post-Vortex, since I needed much fic therapy after the Lex angst of the episode. I know this has been completely thrown out the window by all the episodes after, but hey, denial, well, that might be my middle name. I showed it to Bexless, and she said she liked. And that I should post. So she betaed. I owe her a lot. Her and Ilexa, who encouraged originally, back when the episode premiered. They're my biggest fans, and two of the best a girl can know in fandom.

Disclaimer: Not mine. You can tell by the blatant lack of comfort in canon. Grr. 

* * *

"Lex...?" Clark asked dubiously, entering the dark room. 

"Go away Clark." The words came up from the darkness, from the solitary figure perched on the remains of a broken couch. A week ago, Clark would have listened; those words would have pushed him away. A week ago that voice would have been cold and harsh. Now it just sounded tired. Which is why Clark couldn't walk away. 

Lex sounded weary, like an old man and a child all at the same time. Like one more thing would just cause him to break. And Clark hadn't noticed, hadn't thought about it until this very moment. 

Before, it was understandable. His father was missing. He was in a panic and scared. (And Lex had been in a panic and scared after nearly losing his father, and he'd still come to check up on Clark) 

Afterwards, there was no excuse. Lex had come in, saved them once again, and Clark had just let him walk away. Hadn't even thought about it again until Chloe called this morning. And even she'd thought about Lex more than Clark had. Asked him how Lex was doing and commented that Gabe hadn't been able to get in touch with him. Seemed surprised when he said that he hadn't spoken to Lex since yesterday. 

Clark was supposed to be his best friend. Best friends did things like check in on each other when one's father was in the hospital. (How many hours had Lex wandered the halls when Clark's dad was in the hospital?) 

Best friends did not leave each other alone in a dark and lonely house, sitting among ruins, with a half empty bottle of scotch in front of them. 

"Lex." He clambered over broken beams, avoided shards of glass and then dropped down beside Lex, on the couch that had seen better days. Had it only been three days ago that they had sat on this very couch, when everything was clean and neat, and not in danger of falling down around their ears? Lex really shouldn't be sitting in here. 

"Why are you here Clark?" 

"Where else would I be?" And even as he said the words he felt the guilt. Because Lex knew as well as he did that he hadn't been there. Not when he should have been. And God he prayed it wasn't too little too late. "Lex, are you okay?" 

"Am I okay?" Lex echoed, and giggled a little. It was a sick sound. Out of place in the stillness of the office, the wreckage of the storm making the castle seem more like a tomb than ever. "Am I okay? I don't know, Clark. My best friend's father almost died this week, I killed a man, and my father will never see again. I don't know if I'm okay Clark." 

"I'm sorry, Lex." Inadequate. Two words would never quite make up for all the things he was sorry for. Sorry for not coming sooner. Sorry for what happened with Nixon. Sorry that he couldn't keep all the bad things from happening. 

"You shouldn't have saved me." Never sorry for that. "Look at everything that wouldn't have happened. My father's injuries. The Plant closing. Nixon wouldn't have been interested in your family. You would have been..." 

"Alone," Clark said. Lex looked up at him then, eyes much too honest for Clark to bear. Alone. He would have been alone without Lex. Despite his parents, despite Chloe, despite Pete, despite even Lana, Clark would have always been lonely. 

Lex had always been lonely. Lex draped his loneliness around him like a cloak, like a funeral shroud. Lex had almost drowned once, and Clark had saved him. Lex was drowning now, and Clark wasn't going to let go. 

His fingers laced through Lex's. "You're the best friend I've ever had." 

Lex swallowed, hard. "I've lied to you." 

"So have I." 

"I've put you in danger." 

"I've lived." 

"I killed a man." 

"You saved my father." 

"I nearly let my father die." 

"But you didn't." 

"What do you know of it Clark? You've got a father you'd die for." 

Clark sighed, shifted, and leaned back against the tattered back of the couch. He pulled Lex against his chest. Lex stiffened for a moment and tried to resist, but when he pushed away, Clark would not give. It seemed like an eternity before he finally relaxed, melted against Clark, let Clark give him comfort. And then he clung on like a child. 

Clark wondered how long it had been since someone held Lex. He'd always taken it for granted that when he needed it, someone would be there to comfort him. His mother, or even his father, neither of them reserved in their affection. Lex held on like a man starving. 

What kind of a monster deprived a child of basic comfort? 

"You don't." Lex looked up at him. "You don't have a father you'd die for. And yet, you were willing to. You stayed and helped him when you're not even sure that he deserves it. That's what counts." 

"I hesitated." 

"You still did it." Clark squeezed Lex tighter, as if his touch could convey everything that Clark was afraid to give a voice. He needed Lex to believe this, to believe that he was worth saving. Believe that Clark would do it again in an instant, regardless of however many people came snooping at his door, however close the risks became. The concept of a life without Lex was too scary to even contemplate. Clark shivered, and pressed his lips to Lex's head, assuring himself of his presence. Lex stilled, shifted, and pulled away to look at him. 

Strange to think that a week ago, Clark would have been embarrassed of this intimacy. That even three days ago, he would have ducked out of the room frightened to confront feelings that he'd been sidestepping forever now. But three days ago, he hadn't realized how close he was to losing it all. That there were forces that even with his special powers, he couldn't necessarily beat. Three days ago he'd been afraid that Lex would find out about his secret and that he shouldn't trust Lex. 

Yesterday Lex had killed a man to protect him. 

Clark leaned forward, brushing his lips against Lex's. Lex froze. 

"Lex?" He didn't question whether Lex wanted him. That was clearly written on his face, all those ever-present walls gone. 

"I didn't....everything you've been through over the past few days; I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you." 

And Clark would have laughed had he not been so stunned. Even after everything Lex had been through, his first concern was still protecting Clark. He'd killed to protect Clark when he didn't even know the secret that he was protecting. "I'm an alien." Clark whispered. 

"Excuse me?" 

"I'm an alien. I'm the thing that Nixon was looking for." 

"Oh." Clark had somehow expected more and he knew later there'd probably be questions. But for right now, Lex didn't say anything. Just leaned forward again to kiss Clark, his fingers weaving themselves through Clark's hair. The kiss was sweet, and electric and tasted as good as truth. 

It might have been only a few minutes or an eternity when they broke apart to breathe. Lex's lips were red and bruised, but his eyes didn't look so hollow anymore. He lifted a finger to graze Clark's cheek. 

"My father is blind." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Apparently the surgery...anyway it's my fault--" Clark opened his mouth to protest but Lex shook his head. "My father said that he'd rather I'd left him to die, here, than live as he is now." 

"Then your father is blinder that he realizes." 

A weak smile flashed across Lex's face, not quite reaching his eyes. "Maybe it would have been better had you never saved me." Clark clenched his jaw. "But the thing is, the thing is, I can't regret it. Not if having died meant I missed out on this. On you. And I don't even want to think of what kind of person that makes me." 

"A brave one." 

"A selfish one." 

"Then I'm selfish too." Clark countered. "Look, Lex, whatever's happened. We're both to blame. I lied to you. You let things get out of control. What happens now is up to us." 

"What happens now?" 

"How about we start with you getting out of this room? It doesn't exactly look steady." Clark grimaced, eyeing the damage the tornado had wreaked in the office. 

Lex grinned. "I think it might be time to remodel." 

"Well I was never fond of the mausoleum look." Clark smiled. He got up and helped Lex to his feet, looked at him, frowned, and asked again. "Lex, are you okay?" 

Grave eyes met his. "No." Hands linked with his. "But I will be." 


End file.
